


The Chains of Commanding

by Kendrix



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Character Journeys, Gen, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Lion Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrix/pseuds/Kendrix
Summary: From Red to Black, like a flower withering.Something of a Season 3 Processing Fic. Angst interspersed with friendship moments.





	The Chains of Commanding

**The Chains of Commanding**

 

 _It's hot, hot_  
_Something 'bout the city_  
_Don't know what it is_  
_that makes my head get crazy_

  
_Makes me feel like I could change_  
_All of my evil ways and shit_  
_I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sick of it_

 

_(From Lana Del Rey's “Heroin”)_

 

 

I:

Shiro's disappearance leaves them all devastated but none more than Keith.

He doesn't wanna hear, he doesn't want to know, he doesn't even want to _think_ of the possibility that they might not find him.

He's not sure what tells him that they could even find him this way or that he's even still alive anywhere; Maybe nothing at all does, and he just keeps searching because he has to.

 

In those first days, it's mainly Allura who keeps them all going forward. They mustn't lose their momentum, she says, they must keep liberating worlds, now that the Empire is decapitated and left in disarray.

So when Keith isn't searching, he is fighting, and that suits him. He understands fighting, perhaps like he understands nothing else; it comes naturally to him like nothing else does.

He knows what to do, and what to expect, and if he winds up barking our orders in the heat of battle, or telling the others to remain focused, he doesn't think much of it.

They liberate planets. They make new alliances and expand on old ones, in particular, their cooperation with the Blade of Marmora becomes a regular thing and proves invaluable even though their operatives draw the occasional suspicious glances from their other allies, and though Keith himself isn't overtly recognizable as one of them, it still stings a bit, but his thoughts don't linger there much because all he can think about is Shiro.

 

But they can't avoid confronting their situation forever.

Allura dazzles the members of their growing Alliance with inspirational speeches, but the very same tales that spread the news of their victory work against them when their would-be allies realize that they are one Paladin short.

It falls to the Princess to smooth things over, and she begins to look rather weary when she isn't speaking in public. She had always shouldered the extraordinary burden of her father's legacy with dignity, but it had never been so obvious how much even she had relied on having Shiro at her side to help her shoulder the burden.

 

_(_

_Shiro was by no means an invincible person and very much had his own dem0ns to wrestle with in addition to leading the team, but even then, he had never hated being the leader._

_There had been no need to explicitly designate him as such either; sure, he was the oldest, the most experienced and technically a superior officer, but none of that left anything once they'd left their solar system far behind them, and while most members of the team had admired him for his previous accomplishments, that could easily have changed if he had not lived up to the legend._

_He never needed to be prompted, nor was there ever a point where he explicitly assumed control, rather, it seemed like a natural extension of his personality._

_Shiro had been the one keeping a level head, breaking up their squabbles and mobilizing them into action, so it was inevitable that they came to look to him for guidance, especially when they found themselves thrust into such an unfamiliar situation._

 

_He'd keenly felt the responsibility the position entailed, especially after witnessing the Galra threat himself in such an intimate manner and losing sight of his comrades from the Kerberos mission, but he was already the sort of person that would tend to step up, take responsibility and carry it decisive._

_Of course he was just a simple human being with his moment of weakness and the scars of his past often made things much harder than they already were, but his upright sense of justice and duty were such intrinsic parts of him that no amount of breaking could tarnish them – while he'd been there, no one had even thought to question his place at the head of Voltron, it felt as obvious as the sun rising in the morning._

_)_

 

II:

Piloting the Black Lion is nothing like it was with Red, and not just because of the different aerodynamics or the more sluggish response patterns of the controls.

There is none of that immediate affinity, that readily apparent alikeness of essence that there was before.

Keith's acclimatization period is marginally less embarrassing than those of Lance and Allura, but there _was_ no acclimatization period with their initial lineup, not even for Pidge or Hunk who hadn't even been pilots before.

When he first bonded with red, there was this natural understanding, this freedom of movement, as if they were extensions of a single being shooting across the sky.

This was different, like playing a videogame with a broken controller or eating with a nose blocked by infection, a clear, noticeable lag or disconnect that reminded him of all that was wrong, and how it ought to be Shiro in here rather than him, a wrongness even more pervasive than the color clash between his uniform and the black bayard which had, until recently, been in the possession of Zarkon himself.

The connection _felt_ different – in the end both Lions were mystical creatures made from ancient magitech, but with Red, he'd had a sense of dealing with a being which he could intuitively understand, of communing with a majestic creature that nonetheless flowed with the heat of life and shared with him characteristics common to all life, something akin to sharp senses, survival instincts and a drive to seek prey.

The Black one, however, was a mysterious creature, of distance and void and open spaces...

It wasn't exactly cold or anything, but, the sensation of the link was much like a vast expanse opening up around him, the solemnity of a spacious, silent void.

He'd piloted it only once before, in an attempt to protect Shiro, but he hadn't expected it to feel anything like Red would since he was not its designated pilot – He was just glad that he got it to move at all and paid it no further thought at the time, besides briefly wondering what it might feel like to Shiro and implicitly assuming that it could not be exactly like this.

But to perceive and interpret the experience the way Shiro did, he would have to actually _be_ Shiro, and he certainly wasn't... and he'd be damned if he could fathom what had been going through _Zarkon's_ head when he used to man this very seat.

Knowing his old friend – and missing him all the more every time he thought of him – he could imagine that perhaps, Shiro found this void peaceful, in a manner that could even be comforting or beautiful... but while he could understand that in some distant, theoretical manner, Keith knew nothing of such peace.

 

_(_

_Some changes_ did _take root in the young Paladin's mind, but no one was convinced that they were good ones._

_It had not been unusual for him to spend his free time on the training deck, be it to hone his considerable skills or simply to burn up some excess energy, but he was still very much given to more inert pursuits such as relaxing in a pool, nibbling some trashy snacks and was quite content to spend some time doing not much at all, much like any youth his age._

_He was also occasionally inclined to spend hours in quiet, solitary contemplation, and though the others didn't really get the appeal of it and generally saw him as a somewhat aloof person, they readily gave him his space and, for the most part accepted him much as he was._

_But that was when he was simply one part of their group, not someone who'd be expected to be responsible for their lives in the heat of battle, or readily available for all their concerns._

_If there was a reason he'd been chosen in spite of all his shortcomings, it would be that he understood the importance of their objectives and their importance in the greater scope, how it weighed far heavier than any of their lives... especially his own._

_He was keenly aware of what would happen if he were to fail, and how it could all depend on him, how there was no one else there to save or protect his teammates._

_He'd pushed himself before, often for the thrill of it or because he was feeling brave that day, but that was nothing compared to the frantic ways in which he was throwing himself about the training deck these days, his confident smirks replaced by growls of frustration, and when he wasn't training, he spent every available moment scouring the stars for any trace of Shiro, desperate for his return to liberate him from his burdens._

_He never seemed to rest much at all; Once a heavy sleeper, especially after exerting himself, he'd never needed too long to drift out of consciousness when given the opportunity, be it in a flimsy abandoned shack in the wilderness or an ancient spaceship cruising through the void, but these days seemed long past._

_Sure, he'd experienced some torment in the days surrounding the revelations concerning his ancestry, but those petty personal concerns seemed outright laughable compared to what he faced now._

_Whatever alien proteins his body might be made of, it no longer belonged just to himself._

_More and more, he seemed possessed by an ever-growing sense of barely restrained restlessness, a tension that he often channeled into his futile hunt for Prince Lotor, but for all his determination to end him, it was never enough._

_The Prince kept toying wit him, remaining always just a tidbit out of his reach, provoking his wrath only to make it an instrument of his victory, making him run circles around him and having him dancing on the palm of his hands._

_In the knowledge that he could end everything if only he could defeat him, he pushed himself and his team to the brink time and time again, but in the end, Lotor always managed to evade him, leaving him unable to justify the risks and sacrifices he had asked of those now under his command._

_Not long after taking over as the Black Lion's pilot, he developed noticeable bags under his eyes._

_)_

 

III:

The other Paladins supported Keith as a friend, but that didn't mean that they had confidence in him as a leader.

Lance in particular was quite vocal in expressing his dislike of decisions he disagreed with, but Keith could hardly blame him.

Even Keith himself could see that the had no clue what he was doing.

If anything, he'd gained a greater respect for him. Though generally likeable, the Blue Paladin had always seemed like the least serious member of the team, often cracking jokes, getting caught up in petty personal concerns and picking unnecessary fights... it didn't help that he seemed to have it out for Keith since day one for nebulous reasons beyond his understanding, something to do with their time at the garrison.

He'd thought that they had been slowly bridging that rift during their time as Paladins, but he was never really sure.... but now, as Keith faced his most difficult trial yet, when there was ample opportunity to tear him down, he was faced with a more somber and serious side to the Blue Paladin.

Perhaps it was simply another way in which they'd _all_ been forced to mature in Shiro's absence, even Pidge and Hunk. Reforming Voltron meant all of them having to shift and grow a little to fill the void he'd left, because Keith could not.

They could no longer afford their childish conflicts, not when no one was coming to save them and it all depended on them.

Despite all the fights they'd had, all the times had clearly expressed his rather negative opinion of Keith, Lance ended up being his staunchest supporter and pretty much the only reason he managed to keep up the faith, or avoided becoming the cause of something he could never forgive himself for.

He didn't mince words, but he always made sure to help him move forward, and Keith came to much appreciate both of these things.

 

 

_(_

_He was confident once._

_Maybe not about acting around people or where he was going, but about what he did._

_Out in the field, in the belly of the beast, he would make the choice to act and stick with it, rush forward and deal with the consequences as they came up._

_In theory, you'd think that decisiveness would be a good trait for a leader to have, but that was little more than an empty phrase when he found himself stumbling from one dangerous mishap to the next._

_Everything was so_ important, _so far-reaching, so loaded with consequence, and with each passing day, he felt himself coming apart under its weight._

_He knew he could never be like Shiro, that he had to find his own strengths if anything was to come of this, but any time he found the slightest bit of faith in him to dare do things his way, he ended up doing everything wrong, straining the already tenuous faith the others had placed on him._

_With each blunder and each successful scheme of Lotor's, with every day that Shiro wasn't here to guide him, the doubts ate away at him more and more, driving their roots into the spaces in-between his thoughts until the awareness of his inadequacies was a constant presence in his mind._

_)_

 

IV:

As the leader, it was up to Keith to think of new strategies to fight their enemies and new ways of improving the team's cohesion and effectiveness.

He wasn't sure how Shiro had done it, if he was always thinking of it, just had a ton of good ideas coming to him or recognized the necessity for each individual measure as it came up.

Keith didn't know how _he_ was going to do it, either. He had all his hands full just keeping it together, continuing the search for Shiro and surviving Lotor's shemes.

When such a thought came to him at all, it was a rare mercy:

Though Allura had struggled the most at the very beginning, she had been the first of them to securely get a hang of her new Lion, even managing to activate the advanced abilities like the sonic blaster almost right away.

It followed that she must be doing something right in a way that the rest of them weren't and also ought to be doing.

So he makes use of a moment in which Pidge, Hunk and Coran were busy doing repairs and calls the others to a meeting.

He was expecting the possibility that Lance might get all indignant and read his introductory question as some covert attempt to diss him personally by implying that Allura had been doing better, but that doesn't happen – in fact, Lance looks almost as sober, pensive and vaguely lost as Keith feels beneath his attempts at stoicism, which is unusual for him.

He was being his usual wisecracking self until Hunk and the others left the room, but between the three of them, there's not one person who could conceal how much this situation made them doubt themselves.

“I don't really know...” The Princess begins, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. Normally, she'd be full of energy when she spoke, whether it shoved as forceful sharpness or resolute optimism. Now, rather than projecting strength and certainty outwards, she was genuinely looking inward, searching for an answer she was yet uncertain about.

This is not an easy thing for her to speak about, but she understands the necessity for it and tries to put it frankly:

“I suppose it was approaching the bond with the right mindset, like, being honest with yourself and opening yourself up to it.”

At this, Lance sighs thoughtfully. “I guess I never realized that it was supposed to be that deep, do be honest I never really understood all that techno-babble or mystical talk. Back when I was flying Blue, I just kind of... trusted her I suppose...”

“And that's harder with Red?”

“Not really, I mean, Blue will always have a special place in my heart but Red is pretty cool, too. She's pretty fast for one thing! Allura told us that Red was the most difficult to fly, so I suppose I shouldn't expect to get the hang of it right away.

It's just that she's a lot harder to maneuver. What did _you_ do when you want her to stop?”

“...I didn't. Make her stop that is, at least not very often.”

“Figures.” Lance commented with a bit of a sigh. “You can barely find your _own_ brakes most of the time.”

Allura, reading their banter as the onset of further bickering, half-considered a reprimand, but Keith preempted her:

“That's not it, though. It's not really a matter of difficulty or anything, it's just that, when Red moves, she moves. She responds to even the slightest thought or input from the controls right away. So you have to decide what to do and just do it.”

“...so just stick with it and wing it then?”

That's _not_ how Keith would have put it, but then again, of course it wasn't.

“...yeah, I guess so.”

“So, anything similar you could tell me about the Blue Lion?“ the Princess inquired.

“Nah, not really. You're doing great already, and besides, I'm the one who got shut out...”

Keith felt he should say something about this, but he doesn't know how. Something about Lance's words there rubs him the right way, and not just because he passed up a chance to show off; he sounds... dejected somehow, even though he's downplaying it by his casual tone.

And it goes without saying that Keith has no one he could ask for tips about how to deal with the Black Lion.

 

After Lance has left to go find Hunk and Pidge, the Princess remains by Keith's side, sending a serious, heavy glance the direction of his face once the door closes. “I know it's difficult, but you and the Black Lion are to function as an unit, you have to overcome your resistance towards your new role.”

And for all Keith knows that she's right that such feelings would be an obstruction, he can't deny that he _has_ them, not when he'd pleaded for the Black Lion not to choose him as it whirred to life all around him.  
  
_(_

_He doesn't understand the idea of resonance in the depth or mathematical detail that Hunk or Pidge probably know about it, but he has a rough, mechanistic idea of what it means, a metal image of manifold applicability._

_To connect with a creature of the void, he needs to look inside and find the void within himself._

_And there_ IS _something of the void in him, whether he likes it or not._

_Something about him belongs to eternity, as much as it belongs to the fire, maybe even more._

_There's something in him of endless barren expanses and majestic unending silence, something of the blackness of the night sky and of mysteries he never understood, of dark, unfathomable presences and the great unknown, of the bigger picture and of places, people and lives looking infinitely tiny from a great, great height._

_He belongs to the void, because there's nowhere else he would have a claim to, certainly not some place on Earth. He is no more of the Earth than he is of some long lost place somewhere out there, and he would not exist if it weren't for the void connecting those places together._

_So, he is first and foremost a citizen of the darkness, bound to nobody else by any lower common denominator than that they were all children of stardust._

_)_

 

V:

 

The distress call. The anomaly. The second comet. The bitter truth and last but not least, Lotor's trap.

So much had happened in these brief vargas, enough to shake their views of reality to its foundations and leave them all stunned into silence, dumbstruck by all that there was to take in.

 

But even Keith with his limited understanding of such things could tell that Princess Allura's world had been shaken more than anyone else's.

It was hard to imagine what she must be feeling, such a cruel jest of fate, such a surge of desperate hope followed by such jarring disillusionment, but even if he couldn't relate to it's magnitude, Keith had little doubt that must be rather awful and confusing – Perhaps, she was even doubting what these revelations made of her and, ironically enough, that part was within the scope of things that Keith could very much relate to.

The Princess was proud and keeping up the look of strength was her way of keeping it together, so he didn't push the issue, but he made sure to be in her surroundings and answer with reassurance and affirmation when she spoke.

He of all people knew them importance of giving others their space, so if she wanted to stand tall, he would let her... but that didn't mean he'd ever let her feel abandoned.

Besides, as the leader, it was now his responsibility to look out for morale and comfort his teammates – at least, it had been part of what Shiro used to do, which meant it was now Keith's job.

He made sure to check on her once and a while, usually from a distance, approaching her just enough to make his presence apparent, so that she knew he was there if she needed him.

That said, it was not just a matter of respect that made him reluctant to approach her – for one thing, he wasn't as good at this as Shiro had been. He didn't know the words to say.

And then there was that little issue that his person had been a... touchy subject for her not too recently ago.

She had apologized, and they were cool now, but he didn't know in how far she would be comfortable with him when she was already in a strained mood.

 

But when he found her sitting on the observation deck (not still there but _back_ there, since she'd changed out of her Paladin armor at some point), looking truly miserable, his conviction wavered and he was seriously tempted to wonder if it wouldn't do more harm than good to leave her by herself.

Slowly and reluctantly, he finally approached, making sure to give her ample time to notice and watching for any reaction to his presence, be it welcoming or withdrawing.

Finally, after he'd stood about four feet apart for a while without garnering any indications of discomfort, he spoke.

“Are you still thinking about the other reality?”

She shook her head. “I'm thinking about the other _me_. The one who was apparently a tyrant worse than Zarkon.”

“It wasn't _you_ , but some other version of you from some crazy bizarro universe, some different world were everything is opposite, just a _possibility_ for what _could_ have happened.

There's probably some reality out there where I and the others are evil, or one where Zarkon and Lotor are good and we have them over for dinner once in a while. There could be an universe where the planets are all shaped like donuts, or where you have ears just like ours.

It doesn't mean that _you_ could be a tyrant, other than in the sense that all living beings are capable of both good and bad.”

“I wonder about that... I've done things my father wouldn't approve of. Vindictive things. Things I regret.”

“You did what you thought was necessary to keep us all safe. We _all_ have done some things we regret. That's as true for me as it is for you. After all, we're only-” Keith paused, searching for a word.

He was going to say 'human', but that word wasn't really applicable here, not for either of them.

That, in itself, was still an adjustment in progress.

He stepped closer, but stopped short of sitting down besides her, instead directing his eyes at the glittering void beyond the windowpane.

“We all make mistakes sometimes. That doesn't make you a bad person.”

She leaned back, shifting out of the curled up position she had maintained so far.

“I know, I know. It's just... I keep wondering what my father would think, if he could see me now, and know how I've handled things since he's been gone. I keep wondering if I could have done better...”

Hearing her say that and sensing the barely concealed anguish in her voice, he couldn't help but emphasize with her doubts, immediately thinking back to his own struggles with the impossible task of filling Shiro's shoes, and that connection made the distance between them feel just a little less insurmountable, enough that he finally found the courage to sit down beside her, though he still made sure to keep a sizable distance between them, a little less than a foot away from where the hem of her dress had come to rest, or whatever the proper distance was when someone had at last accepted you as a person, but with a pretty significant 'despite' attached to it that they were making an effort to look past because it was you, their friend.

The whole point of this was to support her, not to further stir up unpleasant memories or force her to confront something that was repugnant to her.

“There's no point in acting like I could tell you that...” he began, well-aware that he wouldn't appreciate any whitewashing of the situation either if he were in her place. “There is simply no way to know. But we know that if he _could_ see you, he would also see that you're trying your best.”

Unsure if this helped even remotely, he feels compelled to find something else to say.

“I can't even fathom what it must be like to lose your whole world...” he began, somberly reflecting on both the incredible weight of what it must be like when almost everyone you've ever known is gone and wistfully observing that he didn't really doesn't really have a homeworld of his own for him to lose, as at least half of him would be out of place wherever he went... He'd hate to see the Earth ravaged by tragedy or conquest, but he couldn't say that he missed it the way the others did.

He briefly wonders what the Galran homeworld is like, but he known better than to ask her.

“...but I think I can understand at least some of what you're saying. I was still pretty young when I lost my own father. I was left all on my own, and there was no one to show me the way. It was pretty tough, and I didn't even have to fight a war right then and there.” He reached for his belt, taking out that telltale knife. “This was left behind by my mother, but before he passed it on to me, he used to carry it, in this very same sheath. So in a way, this is a reminder for both of them, my mother _and_ my father.”

“And your father was...?”

“Human, like Lance and the others. I'm not sure _what_ he would say if he knew that I ended up on a flying castle in space, let alone in charge of a mystical robot warrior.”

She hesitated before voicing the next thing on her mind, pulling her legs closer to her and rearranging her arms, but in the end, she resolved to get it over with in a careful, tender little voice: “...I'm sure your mother would be proud though.”

“...my mother?” he asked, trying not to sound alarmed. That was probably the one topic he was _sure_ she would want to avoid and bringing up felt somewhat like stepping on thin ice or picking at a scab, even if she was the one to outright address it.

The Princess anticipated the awkwardness, her eyes somewhat rueful. “I've thought about this again and again, and about what it means for us now. I'm not proud of how I treated you back when I first found out, but in the end, the conclusion that I reached is this: If your mother had this knife, it means she fought against Zarkon and his tyranny, right? It means she wanted him to be defeated.

And now, we've taken down Zarkon and come a great deal closer to dismantling his Empire.

So, your mother would _definitely_ be proud if she knew that it was you who did this.

In reality, we have far more in common than we are different. You and I are the children of heroes who gave everything to stand up against evil. And that it why we must stay strong and keep going.”

She was almost back to the optimism her Public Speech Voice towards the end there, but the residual shakiness betrayed it as a coping strategy.

Sitting here together facing the expanse of the universe, they did not feel like the descendants of heroes or even the leaders of the Voltron Alliance, but simply two lost, lonely, orphaned children, huddling together against the darkness.

And she must have thought so, too, because she closed the distance between them from her side of it, letting her weight sink against that objectionable body of his and the Galra blood keeping it warm.

He took significantly longer to feel comfortable letting go of his tension, but in the end, he allowed himself to rest his head against her shoulder, next to the fabric of her head and the fluff of her hair.

“I'm sure King Alfor would be proud of you, too.”

 

 

_(_

_Shiros return should have been the final relief which Keith had awaited for so long, yet somehow, it wasn't._

_)_

 

VI:

Though he had moved on and taken measures for the worst, Keith never gave up on finding Shiro, not just because he wanted his cherished friend and honorary brother to be alive, safe and back at his side, but for his guidance, and for the sake of the team; Every passing day made him more and more aware of how much they all needed Shiro.

They could perhaps _make do_ without him in some haphazard fashion, but things were just _wrong_ without him there, it was all harder and tougher than it would have been if only he were there.

With time, he allowed himself the hope that by the time of their reunion, they would all be older, wiser and better able to support Shiro on a more equal basis where they could all share his burdens, that they would save him eventually and make him proud, and in particular, Keith might be able to show him that he had finally, truly changed.

 

That was not what happened.

Shiro _did_ express his pride for them and the work they had done to liberate worlds and expand their alliance, things did not smoothly slide back to the status quo of old.

Just as he thought he was getting the hang of his new role, he was confronted with just how little he had truly understood and how much he still fell short, just like he'd always feared.

While the others may have followed him for better or for worse despite their complaints, the presence of another voice of authority revealed the flaws in his every suggestion – and who was he to deny them, let alone to insist on his idea of doing things?

 

 

 _(The name of his mother's world is_ Daibazaal, a _nd it has been lost to the void for eternities._

 

_In all likelihood, his mother never set foot there; It would have been destroyed long before her birth. Whatever ship or station or colony complex she once lived on, she was a citizen of the darkness, the uncertain shadow between the worlds that hides locust-hordes of monsters commanded by a relentless fisher-king and the dark sorceress that was his consort._

_He doesn't expect to find her; Most likely, she never returned because she was killed in line of duty, much like Thace or Ulaz. It is one bitter war they're fighting and there are many sacrifices, and if he learned one thing in these past weeks, it was that they had to press on no matter how grim the fight became._

_The reasons for her absence are nothing like the short-sighted fables he suspected when she was a child – There were days when used to blame her for never coming back, or suspected that she might have stayed away because she just didn't care and found them burdensome to deal with, especially in the months after his father died, still refusing to believe she would never return as he'd wasted away on his deathbed, leaving their small son to fend for himself ever since._

_But those days are long past; He knows that the larger cause is more important than any one person, and he knows it now more than ever._

_Whoever his mother was, she was a warrior, too._

 

_He has little time for idle thought these days, so he seldom wonders about her, what she might have been like and whether she would be proud of him, for having contributed to Zarkon's downfall as he did._

_It's hard to take satisfaction in avenging someone he never knew, and besides, he can't fathom being proud of himself, not when new threats sprout like the heads of a hydra, not when he can't seem to get anything right, not when he wonders every waking moment if this fight will be lost because it was him out in the field rather than Shiro._

_Even so, this had been his war before it was anyone else's, apart from Allura and Coran of course... and he was determined to end it._

_)_

 

VII:

Of all the things Keith had feared this might lead to, he didn't think that it would be himself banging on the doors to Lance's quarters.

“Come on, Lance. Just open up the door for a second.”

“Why? I just want to be alone for a bit! Is that forbidden now?”

It wasn't, but the tone of the Blue Paladin's voice belied his excuse.

“Look, I don't like to be in this situation any more than you do, but the others are worried about you and Shiro thinks I should be the one to handle it. Just come out for a bit so I can tell them that everything's okay with you.”

“Or, you can just turn around and tell them that right now!”

At this, Keith's fist hid the door in frustrations.

“Lance, _please._ I know I'm not good at this like Shiro is. You've got to work with me here.”

“Why don't you just mind your own business?”

“I AM minding my business! You're an important part of our team, and I'm responsible for it now, at least out in the field.”

If he'd received another snappy comeback, Keith would have been angry, but he could have understood it. What he heard instead defied comprehension:

“Really? How am I important?”

There it was again. Just like this talk about 'stepping down' recently.

“...what the quiznack? Why in the world would you even say that?! How are you **not** important?”

“Come on, Mullet, I don't need you of o all people to feel sorry for me.”

“What has feeling sorry got to do with anything?”

“Well why else would anyone say that I'm important? What would I be important _for?”_

“You're part of our team, for one thing. You're the right arm of Voltron.”

“Except that used to be you. I'm just a shoddy replacement for you while you're busy flying Black. I was never more more than a second-rate pilot even in my original lion. Allura was a total beginner, and she got better than me in no time...”

“I know what I said about your piloting, but that was a long time ago. You're better at it now. You heard how Allura said that Red was the hardest one to master. You wouldn't be able to fly her unless you were a good pilot. Besides, we need you with us on the ground. No offense to any of the others, but you're one of our better fighters.”

“But I'm not nearly as good as you or Shiro.”

“You're a better planner and strategist than me, though. Remember the Balmera? You came up with all the plans.”

“Not as good as Pidge, though.”

“You- you're a great person to be around. All the others like you.”

“Not like Hunk. They're probably just annoyed with me half of the time.”

“Nonsense. You're always thinking about the team.”

“Not like Shiro or Allura do...

Everyone on this team has something they're the best at, something special that they contribute that no one can replace... Except for me that is. All I do is open my big mouth and _act_ like I'm great, but at the end, I don't add anything except hot air.”

“You have _all these great skills_. As far as I know, we don't have anyone else who can do all these things. You're just our jack-of-all-trades then. You can do almost _anything_. What does it _matter_ if you're the best at anything?”

“That's easy for you to say! You're _special_. You're the best pilot, and the best fighter. You were always different from us, even before we found out that you're part space ninja or something. You're always doing all the cool stuff. You fought _Zarkon_ one on one! You snuck into his command ship all by yourself, and now you're even the chosen one to be the leader.”

“I'm not 'special' or anything like that!” Keith denounced, his voice breaking. “How can you of all people possibly think that? I'm a _quiznacking dropout, Lance!_ And you know it. I've caused nothing but trouble all of my life. I nearly got us all killed back on Thayserix. Fighting and flying are, like, the _only_ things I'm any good for-”

“You'd all be better off without me.”

This statement, spoken in a quiet, unsteady voice that sharply contrasted the escalating argument preceding it, enraged Keith in a visceral, offensive manner – Hardly believing his ears, he took a step back, drawing in a breath, before discharging his irate, thundering fists against the cabin door.

“Listen up! There's not a _single_ person who did more to keep this team together while Shiro was gone.

I could _never_ have done this if it weren't for you. I don't even want to **think** about what could have happened if it weren't for you!

I know you never liked me, since the very beginning. But you still supported me. You still helped me. You always had my back. You still kept me from making even more stupid mistakes. I needed someone to keep me going and also keep in check, so you took over that role, just like that.

Don't tell me that's not remarkable. Don't tell me that's not special.

You're important to me, and you're important to this team so please don't even think such nonsense.

Look man, I know you hate me, and that you probably think of me as some hotheaded psycho Rambo wannabe, but to me, you're the closest thing I've ever had to a best friend.”

That was when Lance opened the door, eyes red and puffy and lips quivering with feeling.

 

“I don't _hate_ you. Whoever said that I hate you!”

And then, well – Keith supposed that he simply came from a more expressive culture, or that he used to do this with his siblings when _they_ comforted him about something.

Before he knew, Lance had darted past the door he had been hiding behind, and pulled his fellow paladin into a tight hug.

“I don't _hate_ you, I've never _hated_ you, _Iwasjustjealous-_ ” His sob-whacked words disintegrated into inelegant blubbering, causing him to simply hold on tighter to convey what his feeble mumbling could not.

Keith was, above all, rather stumped, and still wearing an expression of dull surprise by the time Lance gave up on talking, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do with this. Thanks to his teammates (and Hunk and Shiro in particular), he was not as unfamiliar with such displays of affection as he had once been, but he still wasn't very good at this, and it was far from coming naturally to him – He vaguely suspected that he was supposed to say something emotional right now, but he couldn't think of anything that would really add to what had been said before without risking to ruin what he believed was a moment.

Eventually, it occurred to him to stop standing there like a wooden pole and cautiously, hesitantly raise his arms in order to awkwardly pat Lance on the back, and, once that had gone without incident, to simply lean in and relish this fleeting moment of warmth and connection amid this harsh and bitter war.

The heaviness of their earlier words still hung above them, this was by no means a moment of catharsis or resolution to any of their doubts, merely a simple, sincere exchange of human warmth in the cold, a tiny light flung into the darkness, a brief and transient respite in the lives of two lost boys who were stuck playing the part of men.

Nevertheless, it was genuine.

It was Lance who first pulled away, wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket and rearranging it into something resembling a smile.

“Thanks, buddy. Being your best friend isn't all that bad.”

That last bit was only added in jest, but it still brought a thin smile to Keith's pale, exhausted face, and they both shared a fleeting moment of respite.

 

_(_

 

_He could always feel the rage,the blind white hot berserker fury, bubbling just beneath his skin, always just about ready to boil over, his tainted, selfish gasoline-blood returning everything to dust, this essence that was every bit like a burning, consuming fire, distorting his sight like stagnant air in the summer heat, evaporating his thoughts like a fever, craving disaster-_

 

_He couldn't afford that, not anymore, not ever. He had to keep a tight, tight hold on that, swallow it down like bile, because else, he would ruin everything all over again, endanger everyone else's lives, and it would all be be his fault._

_He had to force it down, down, down - even if he were to choke on it._

 

_)_

 

 


End file.
